why wy?

part two in a series of meaningless jobs

I hold a cheque for $22.50 in my hand, after three hours of holding mental conversations with woollen coats. Me, with a steam iron in my hand. Steam irons rock. But even the magic of steam irons is no match for the sheer drudgery of the job. I can switch my brain off, but it feels much better to do it for more money. Where are the mythical $22 per hour jobs that I hear about? To be fair, the boss is a nice man, but he is paying peanuts. It reminded me of his skit they did on muppets tonight, where salmonella, a monkey, tries to be an osteopath. His boss, Johnny, is an old-time Frank/Dean type singer.
Johnny: Why ain't my pants ironed? I need them for the show tonight.
Sal: Sorry Johnny, I was reading this book. I'm going to be an osteopath. Let me fix your neck.
Johnny: You're a pants ironer, not a boneylogist. Pants ironer.
Sal: I guess you're right Johnny. Pants ironer.

It's got a happy ending - no more pants are ironed and Sal ends up fixing kermit's neck, although it looked seriously floppy after.

I'm a coat ironer - but not for long, please.

And this made me laugh today:
BERLIN (Reuters) - A blow-up sex doll sparked a bomb alert in a German post office after it started to vibrate inside a package awaiting delivery, police said Wednesday.
"Workers were unsettled when it began vibrating and made strange noises," a spokesman for police in the eastern city of Chemnitz said. "They were worried the package might be a bomb."

Officers brought the sender to the scene and discovered the source of alarm was an electrical device inside a life-size female sex doll. The man told police he had wanted to return the doll because it kept turning itself on at the wrong moment.

Order was restored after the sender removed the doll's batteries so the defective product could be returned.